Lighthouse
by JerBearThompson
Summary: There was something about lighthouses.


Title: Lighthouse

**Title:** Lighthouse  
**Author: **JerBearThompson  
**Rating: **PG/M for bad language  
**Spoilers: **None. _Completely_ AU.  
**Genre: **Angst, Romance  
**Characters: **Ianto, Jack, _blink-and-you'll-miss-it_ reference to Owen  
**Length: **Around 5,300 words.  
**Summary: **There was something about lighthouses.  
**Disclaimer: **Jack and Ianto (or whatever I've twisted their characters into) are not mine, BBC, RTD, blah blah.  
**Prompts: **_Lighthouse, Round the Twist, Jack chasing after Ianto, Scared!Jack _and my lovely new beta KangarooJak requested a _fluffy ending. _

-There's a lot of notes here, feel free to skip over them-

**A/N: **Second fan fic EVER! I apologise in advance if it doesn't make any sense… My head does that sometimes. This was written in _one_ afternoon and my thoughts were all over the place.

**Note: **I know basically NOTHING about Lighthouses. So this lighthouse is really just a contraption built up in my head. I have no idea about what fuels the light and how many bulbs they need… the that thing about the generator (you'll see) was completely made up. I KNOW NOTHING. So please don't take any of it as fact.

**References: **_Round the Twist_ was an Australian children's program about three children and their widowed father living in a lighthouse. Each episode was based around on of _Paul Jennings_ short, funny stories. The show had nothing to do with the lighthouse, other than that they lived in it. It ran for four seasons only.

Okay, so this was inspired by three songs.

_**The Lighthouse Song**_** by Josh Pyke: **

_So we are moving to a lighthouse, you and I  
While seas drown sailors, we'll be locked up safe and dry  
And though our doors may knock and rattle in the wind  
I'll just hold you tight and we'll not let those fuckers in_

_**The Lights Are Back On **_**by The Whitlams: **

_I don't care what they do  
Just being here with you  
It's news to me  
Tell everybody  
The lights are back on_

_**Keep The Light On**_** by The Whitlams: **

_We stumble into each other's lives  
And we knock some things over  
Try not to make a sound_

I'll always keep the light on for you  
You try so hard to be alive  
What else can you do, but close your eyes  
And you can't see the beautiful way when you're burning so bright

Lighthouse.

There was something about lighthouses. No, there was something about _this_ lighthouse.

For one, it was so tall… so majestic, elegant. Every fifteen seconds a strong white beam would flitter out gracefully, running over forty metres of rough sea in a complete 360 degree circle before flicking off – duty done.

There was something strangely satisfying about the way the strong light guided ships to safety, warning sailors of what would have centuries ago been certain peril. Drowning was a thing that would _not_ happen on his watch.

The lighthouse was _safe_. It was his safe place, his haven. He took refuge in the solitude it held, and the thrill of being a silent hero.

He'd recently automated it, for the sake of his job. With Torchwood it was pretty much 24/7 and you were always "on call", so to speak. So with the lighthouse automatically running its rounds, it meant he only had to clean the bulbs every now and then and replace one when it blew.

All in all, it fitted in quite nicely with his busy schedule.

But during those times… those times when he would sometimes choke and gag on his own suppressed grief, raw emotion making his chest tighten until he couldn't even swallow, he couldn't _breathe _and he needed to get out _NOW_… the lighthouse would be there. Waiting for him to come back to it, so it could envelop him within its walls, keeping him safe and dry against the emotional storm raging on outside.

It would comfort him, the strong winds beyond the cold walls whispering their soothing songs until he once again felt calm, at peace, and _loved_. It was pathetic, he knew, feeling loved by a tower of cold concrete blocks.

But it was his _lighthouse_. And it was _his_ lighthouse.

It was the third time it had happened today. Utter helplessness, _hopelessness_, clawing at his chest, his _soul_. He could feel himself being dragged down, into that dark pit of despair, and once again he wondered how many times it would have to happen before he simply lost the will to crawl his way back out. That thought alone was enough to leave him absolutely terrified.

And when, for the third time that day, he managed to push the feeling back into the depths of his being, he knew he had to get away from here. Had to get back to his haven.

So, careful mask back in place, deep breath, slight adjustment of tie, one last "coffee sir?", and he was free to go.

'Ianto!'

He stopped at the sound of his boss' panicky shout. _What now? _He'd already made the last round of coffee, closed up the archives, finished faxing those forms off to UNIT and done a quick clean sweep of the Hub…

'Yes sir?'

_Calm, deep breaths, stay calm. _

'Where are you going?'

'Home.'

_Don't turn around. Don't turn around and for the love of god stop trembling. _

'I was under the impression I had finished my duties for the day. Is there a problem I can aid you with?'

'Oh… no. No, not at all.' Jack was disappointed, and unsuccessfully trying to hide it in his voice.

'I was just… You, um… Leaving so soon?'

'Yes,' Ianto repeated slowly with careful precision, 'I have finished all my duties.'

'Oh, right. You said that before didn't you? Sorry, my hearing must be deteriorating in my old age.'

He could hear Jack chuckling nervously behind him, but all he could think about was the lighthouse, and how tight his chest had suddenly become again. _I need to get to the lighthouse. _

'Goodnight, Jack.'

_Don't look back, just walk. Slowly, walk forward. Almost to the door, and sodding hell would you __stop__ trembling? _

'Yeah, night Ianto, see you tomorrow.'

Jack gave out a breathy sigh. He didn't get it. He had tried flirting, tried seducing the younger man, tried being vague with his intentions, direct with his intentions, tried just being Ianto's _friend_, but nothing was working. And now he was left feeling just plain confused, and a little embarrassed at how vulnerable he seemed in the presence of the other man.

He may as well not even exist, for all Ianto cared. Which he didn't really care about, honestly, it didn't bother him in the slightest. Only… it did.

Why did he want him so much? Why did he want to see the real man behind all the suits and façade of calm? Why did actually want to _try_ being _domestic_ with this man? He wanted to be able to talk to Ianto, share his secrets, his thoughts. He wanted to be able to sit up with him all night, exchanging stories of sorrow, heroic adventures, chuckling tales, and heart-warming tenderness. He wanted to be able to walk along the bay with him, hold his hand, and of all things _eat ice cream_. He didn't event want sex – well, no. That was a lie, of course he wanted sex, but it wasn't his greatest priority. He'd rather just be able to hold him, card his fingers through that infuriatingly perfect hair, touch that pale skin, and feel those soft lips against his.

It was not enough to be _in_ love, he wanted to _be_ loved too.

He wanted to be loved by _Ianto Jones_ and it was about time he did something about it.

It was funny how on the days Ianto had a particularly bad breakdown the weather would always strive to be an exact replica of his emotions. And today was no exception.

Waves were already crashing dangerously against the jagged rocks dotting the bottom of the cliff on which the lighthouse stood shining when he got there. The dark clouds were boiling over any glow the setting sun may have been giving off, a thick curtain of rain obscuring the sturdy light flittering over the swirling, frothing water below.

Ianto's hands shook as he struggled to unlock the door and as soon as it was shut firmly behind him, he sunk to the floor and tucked his knees up to his heaving chest, cradling his head in his palms. Some days it was so hard, it was just so _hard_ and he couldn't… couldn't deal with it.

He didn't know why he felt like this, what exactly it was that was causing these emotions. But he knew it was getting worse, the hopelessness bubbling in his torso threatening to overwhelm him.

He didn't cry, even though he so longed to. Ianto hardly ever cried, it just wasn't part of his character. He did, however, gasp into his hands a few times, his body shaking with dry sobs until he calmed down enough to be able to stand again.

He knew that soon, there would be a fierce storm bellowing in full ball outside. It didn't bother Ianto, this was what he lived for. It was the one time when his lighthouse could really do what it was made for, and truly save lives – and that brought a spark of warmth back to Ianto's aching heart.

He kept a hand placed gently against the smooth wall, trailing it along the cold concrete as he spiraled up the stairs to his living quarters. It was the second highest level, and contained the simple living essentials. Bathroom off to one side, kitchen - complete with fridge, stove and microwave - along one rounded edge of the room, and a double bed (too many nights of tossing and turning only to be woken up by hitting the hard floor below had convinced Ianto to upgrade the size of his single bed) with a bedside table and small lamp in the last remaining space. There was no wardrobe, so all Ianto's suits and few items of other clothing were hanging on a metal frame that had been wheeled to the side of his bed.

It wasn't much, but it was his home. Although, he didn't really spent much time on this level, where he really liked to be was the floor above, the very top of the lighthouse.

A few more steps lead Ianto to the pinnacle of the lighthouse. Up here was what really mattered, it was where he kept all the excess supplies needed for the large light occupying the centre of the room. Over to the left a little, a couch had been dragged next to a small television set with bad reception.

This was where Ianto spent the majority of his nights, amusing himself with one of the two channels his T.V received, while having a clear view of the sea below and easy access to the light should one bulb decide to blow, or something equally disastrous happen.

It was a simple life, but one he enjoyed immensely. This was where he belonged, up high in the air, not cooped up underground in a dank, musky Hub.

And if he died, if he was given the privilege of never having to wake again in sorrow, this is where he wanted to be. And he would be damned if any alien was going to take that last request away from him.

Jack was nervous, uncharacteristically nervous. Why had he done this? Honestly, what had been going through that thick head of his when he decided to do this?

He was a little taken aback at first, he knew this was the right address, he _knew_ it, but… a lighthouse? Ianto Jones lived in a lighthouse. How… exhilarating. Yet another thing that absolutely thrilled him and made him quiver about the young man.

Or maybe that was the nervousness making him quiver like that…

_Okay Jack, toughen up. No turning back now, you're doing this. You're really… really doing this… tomorrow. Yes, I'll do it tomorrow. Okay. _

Jack would have gladly skipped – yes, _skipped_ – back to the SUV if his stubborn conscience wasn't gluing his feet to the spot.

_Okay, here we go. _

He would have wiped the sweat from his palms if he weren't already soaked through and dripping from the thick rain. Just one more second and he would knock… Honestly, he would. Just a few more seconds... Perhaps a minute…

A startlingly bright flash of lightning struck the air above him, an angry rumble of thunder quickly following. It wasn't that Jack was scared of storms, he just _really _didn't like them.

_Right, ready now_, he thought shakily, raising his knuckles to tap at the door hesitantly at first, but then louder as another flash of lightning made him increasingly uneasy.

Just as his knuckles were growing red from his frantic knocking, the wooden door swung open to reveal a slightly peeved but… so _handsome_… looking Ianto.

'What?' the younger man demanded. He sounded exhausted.

It took Jack a moment to answer, momentarily stunned by the sight of Ianto in jeans and a t-shirt. _Silly_, he shook his head quickly to clear the thoughts, _of course Ianto wouldn't be confined to a suit in his own home. _

'Jack, what is it?' Ianto tried again.

'Nothing, I… you live here?'

Ianto raised an eyebrow that clearly stated, _obviously_. Then he seemed to take pity on the soaking man outside his door, looking absolutely terrified, and stepped aside to let Jack in.

'You um… you live here,' Jack repeated as he gratefully stepped out of the rain. _No shit, Sherlock_, he internally scolded himself.

'Yes Jack,' Ianto sighed as he took Jack's wet RAF coat from him. 'I live in a lighthouse. It comforts me.'

There was a stab of something in Jack's chest. _Jealous of a lighthouse, now are we Jack? _

'That's… that's…' Jack only just caught himself from sneezing all over Ianto.

Ianto shook his head sadly. 'Come on, let's get you some dry clothes.'

'It's just a cold, for me it'll heal in about an hour,' Jack murmured in token protest, but already Ianto's hand was pushing between his shoulder blades _right there _and guiding him up the stairs to what Ianto liked to refer to as the "home level".

Jack had to remember to close his stunned mouth as he stared around at Ianto's quarters. It was so simple, yet so homely. And goddamn it, if he couldn't just see himself _lying in that bed. _

'Here,' Ianto pressed a grey t-shirt and similar pair of jeans into his hands. (And Jack shivered because it was _cold_, it had nothing to do with the soft brush of warmth that was Ianto's fingers over his.)

'I'll be on the next level, just come up when you're ready.' Ianto was already half way out the door as he said the words.

_What, he's not even a little interested in what I look like without my shirt on? _

Well that was something new. Jack even briefly considered walking upstairs without a shirt on, but he wasn't joking before when he said it was _cold_. So being a good boy, he quickly stripped down and slid into the dry clothes. (Certainly _not_ growing light headed from the way they smelt like Ianto, and definitely _not_ wearing the most ridiculous grin he'd ever seen.)

Then he began the slow ascent upstairs. What was he going to tell Ianto? That he was here just because he desperately wanted to see him again? Because he thought maybe in a place outside of work he could actually gather enough courage to tell him about how he felt? Because he was secretly wishing he could make Ianto love him overnight? Or, at least _like_ him.

Ianto sat on the couch and sighed. What did Jack want _now_? He confused Ianto so much. Some days he would flirt to no end, an innuendo in every sentence. Other days he would practically ignore Ianto, be a tough boss. Then there were the days where he'd just be friendly and try to talk. Ianto had no idea what he wanted, but he was getting rather fed up.

Couldn't Jack see he was invading Ianto's one place to get _away_ from work? Why couldn't he just leave him alone?

'Ianto, I…'

Ianto turned around on the couch and to his relief saw Jack was actually wearing the shirt. (He'd had his doubts - it was Captain Jack Harkness after all.)

Jack seemed to be staring all around the room, looking intently at anything that wasn't him, he noticed.

'Thank you,' the older man finished at last.

Ianto stood up to join Jack standing in the doorway – he knew that if he offered for Jack to sit down he'd have a very hard time getting rid of him. And he wanted his comforting solitude back. He saw Jack instinctively inch closer while keeping his head deliberately facing the opposite direction. _What was with him? _

'Why are you here, Jack?'

Jack breathed out heavily through his nostrils, he'd known this question was coming.

'I just wanted to see you.'

'Why? Have I done something wrong?'

Jack's head spun around so fact, Ianto thought it may snap. Not that it'd matter, mind you. Jack would be back within minutes.

'What? No!'

Ianto tapped his foot impatiently.

'Do you need me for anything?'

'No, Ianto I –'

'Then _why are you here_?'' Ianto's tolerance was wearing thin.

'God Ianto, I just wanted to see if you were okay.'

'Why? Why do you care?'

Jack closed his eyes for a second, an emotional battle clearly raging on inside him. Then his eyes flicked open and suddenly he was grabbing at the collar of Ianto's shirt, pushing him back against a curved, white washed wall.

'Why don't you tell me? Why do I _care_, Ianto? Why do I care so much it hurts? Why can't I stop thinking about you? Why do pictures of you plague my thoughts every moment of every day? Why can't I get within seeing distance of you without my knees _shaking_?'

Jack's face was so _close_… Ianto could feel the other man's angry breath on his face, and for the life of him he just couldn't tear his eyes away from the way those lips curled over fuming words. He couldn't bring himself to look into those raw blue eyes.

'Christ Ianto, why do I care about you more than life itself? And _why can't you see that_?'

Jack's voice had reduced to a throaty whisper, and at last he seemed to be regaining some control over the battle inside him. He leant his forehead up against Ianto's and… _oh god, his face was so close_… just seemed to stay like that, breathing heavily.

_Don't kiss him, don't kiss him. Oh god I want to kiss him... Don't kiss him, don't kiss him. _

'You infuriate me, Ianto Jones.'

_Don't kiss him. Let go of his shirt, don't kiss him._

'You fascinate me.'

_Yes, that's it, let go of his shirt. Move your head away, don't kiss him, move your head away. Good. _

Jack didn't know what to do, he didn't even know what he had just done. Why did he do that? He hadn't meant to do that. And now Ianto was just staring at him, with those eyes, those goddamn _eyes_ and he… he… He had to get out of here.

Jack turned sharply on his heel and tried as best he could to get down the spiraled stairs without tripping over and making a fool of himself - or, an even bigger fool of himself in any case.

At the base of the lighthouse, Jack realised he didn't have his coat with him. _Damn it. _He shifted his weight between his feet a few times while he tried to make his mind up as to whether or not he should go back up to get it.

_No_, he decided, grasping the handle and opening the wooden door.

_Shit. _

'You can't go out there.'

That was Ianto's voice, soft, quiet, behind him.

'I can see that,' Jack tried to murmur darkly, but instead it came out sounding rather defeated.

Outside was still pouring, lightning cracking through the dark sky at intervals, accompanied by loud growling thunder. It would be dangerous to go out now, he was just going to have to wait it out.

'Why didn't you just tell me?'

Jack thought he could feel the ghost of a hand across his back, but when he turned Ianto was still over on the stairs, staring at him sadly.

'What does it matter?'

Ianto had the decency to look away for a moment, he wasn't going to lie to Jack about how he felt. Because he didn't feel what Jack obviously did.

'It would have explained a lot.'

'Yeah, well now you know.'

Ianto was silent a moment before gesturing toward the stairs.

'The storm's going to hold up for a while. I'm not the best cook but I can try to make something.'

_I'd rather not_, Jack thought bitterly. He wasn't angry at Ianto, far from it. He was annoyed with himself for his outburst of emotion, and wishing with all his heart that for once in his life the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. But still… the idea of having dinner with Ianto was skipping over his mind in the most intriguing way…

Jack smiled weakly and started back up to the higher levels, brushing past Ianto with the expectation for him to follow behind.

'I can cook. Please,' he cut off Ianto's protests, 'just let me do this for you.'

He took the silence to mean that the younger man was nodding.

'ROUND THE TWIST?' Jack bellowed in utter delight.

Ianto could practically see the captain clutching at his sides as he rolled around the floor in laughter.

'You watch _Round the Twist_?' Jack's breathless voice sounded closer than it had before, and Ianto guessed he was standing behind him.

'Yes, Jack,' Ianto sighed, putting the clean plate on the drying rack and clearing the soapy water from the sink.

Despite his extreme fears of letting Jack cook, dinner had actually turned out quite nice, if not simple. They had chatted and generally become comfortable with each other's company. After, Ianto had insisted on doing the cleaning up and the captain had taken the opportunity to inspect his living quarters more closely. It seemed he had come across Ianto's DVD collection.

'You have _four seasons_,' Jack whispered into his ear.

_Wow, he's close. Move back, move back. _

As if hearing his thoughts, Jack took a few thoughtful steps back before continuing, 'of an _Australian children's program_?'

'They live in a lighthouse,' Ianto shrugged, wiping his wet hands on his jeans (he could almost hear Jack's jaw hit the ground) and turning to face Jack. 'I was interested in the lighthouse.'

'Oh yes, because I'm sure it's such a great documentary on the _lighthouse_.'

'See this?' Ianto smoothly waved a hand over his head. 'This is your sarcasm having no affect on me.'

If it was possible, Jack's grin got even wider.

'The episodes are based on Paul Jennings stories,' Ianto carried on in a softer tone. 'I like Paul Jennings stories, I used to read them to my nephew.'

He could virtually see Jack storing that piece of information away in his mind.

'Round the Twist…' the captain murmured distantly before his eyes flicked back to Ianto's. 'Can we watch it?'

'I don't know…'

A loud roar of thunder took that moment to remind Ianto that Jack wouldn't be going anywhere for a few hours at least.

'Please?' Jack put his hands together like his was praying, holding the DVD in between his flat palms.

_He's begging_, Ianto realised dimly.

'I'm simply interested in the _lighthouse_,' Jack's smile was back.

Ianto rolled his eyes – _perfectly_, he might add. 'Only if you promise that this never leaves these walls.'

Owen would have a field day if he found out.

'You have my word,' Jack zipped his fingers across his lips – which didn't really work as the captain couldn't stop his lips parting over a toothy grin.

'Up,' Ianto shooed him toward the stairs.

'ROUND THE TWIST!' Jack bellowed again, breaking into a fresh wave of laughter as he raced ahead of Ianto.

_Child_, was Ianto's last thought as he followed him. But he was smiling, all the same.

Jack sprinted onto the lighthouse's pinnacle level and threw himself onto the couch in what he was sure was a very dramatic way.

Jack Harkness _loved_ being domestic! He loved doing all these stupid little things such as watching _children's television programs_ together. And he loved _Ian_ –

'Move over.'

Ianto's voice broke his thoughts as he was elbowed to one side of the couch, and then some.

Jack fell on the floor with a _dignified_ cry of protest. 'What was that for?' he demanded.

Ianto stretched out on the couch, closing his eyes and visibly relaxing with a sigh. 'You've got the DVD,' he reminded the captain.

_Don't stare, don't stare, stop staring! _

'Right,' Jack crawled over to the DVD player, his nervousness returning slightly. He slipped the disc in and turned around to find Ianto's eyes on him.

Those goddamn _eyes_, and he was expected to sit on the couch with that. Jesus would be nervous.

'Stay there,' Ianto commanded him. Jack froze.

'I don't have a remote,' Ianto explained, 'you're going to have to wait until the title menu comes up and press play.'

Jack did as he was told and by the time the theme song had started up, Ianto had already shifted so he was lying comfortably across the couch. Jack just stood above him awkwardly.

The young man's blue eyes flicked upward to regard him a second before Ianto was lifting his head slightly and Jack rather inelegantly slipped onto the couch, Ianto's head coming back down to rest on his lap.

The captain's hands twitched slightly.

_Don't touch his hair, don't touch his face, don't touch __him__. Just watch the show. Yes… no! Don't touch his hair! _

Something on the screen made Ianto chuckle, sending vibrations through Jack's lap until he was joining in. It took a bit of self control but from there on, Jack actually did – for the most part - watch the show. He laughed occasionally, although whether it was because it was actually funny or they just had funny accents he didn't know.

Nor did he care.

They were almost through the whole first season when it happened. Ianto had been on the verge of sleep, despite the commotion outside, barely listening to the T.V and focusing instead on Jack's hand running through his hair – something he was pretty sure the captain wasn't aware he was doing.

His heavy eyelids were just slipping shut again when a particularly loud rumble of thunder shook the whole lighthouse and with a loud crack around him, he was jolting up into the pitch darkness.

Jack's hand quickly sought out his shoulder in the dark and he could hear the slight panic in the captain's voice as he said, 'its okay Ianto. The power has just gone out.'

'No Jack,' Ianto's breathing was shallow.

_Shit, shit, shit. _

'The light's gone out.'

'I know, Ianto, the power-'

'NO!' Ianto practically screamed. 'The _light_, the lighthouse's _beam_ has gone out!'

'Is that what that crack was?' Jack sounded worried.

'Yes,' Ianto got to his feet and felt his way over to the light, still hot, confirming his suspicions. 'That was _every_ bulb blowing.'

That's when they heard it, in the distance, a loud fog horn blaring. _A ship_.

_Shit, shit, SHIT. _

'Jack! Jack come here!'

'Ianto, I-'

'JUST COME HERE.'

Ianto held his hand out in the darkness, thanking god when he felt Jack's own outstretched fingers brush his own. He latched onto them and pulled the captain over to the useless light.

'I need you to take all these bulbs out. Please Jack, just twist them and pull them out.'

'What do I do with them?'

'God Jack, I don't know. I don't _care_. You could throw them, for all it matters. I'll clean it up later.'

'Ianto, what's happening?'

Ianto guided Jack's hand through the darkness to the first bulb.

Then he disappeared to the other side of the room, cursing to himself as he searched blindly for the box of supplies. _This wasn't meant to happen. They weren't __all__ meant to go out. _

'A ship's coming, Jack.'

After what seemed far too long, Ianto's fingertips brushed the corner of something cardboard. He scrabbled desperately the get the top open before dragging it in the direction he thought Jack might be.

'Jack!'

'Over here,' and there was Jack's hand, closing over his wrist and pulling him back to the light, skillfully pushing him around a pile of something Ianto couldn't see.

_Useless bulbs_, he realised after a moment.

'Here,' he pulled one of the cartons out of the box and passed it to Jack. 'It's a bulb, just twist it back in. And hurry.'

_For the love of god, hurry. _

Jack's breaths were heavy and laboured in his ear as they worked side by side to repair the light, hands occasionally crossing paths in the dark.

'That's it,' Ianto breathed at last, hands sliding over the bulbs and counting them. 'That's all.'

'It's not working,' Jack's troubled voice sounding impossibly loud in the quiet lighthouse. 'Why isn't it working?'

'The generator,' Ianto puffed. 'Jack hold this,' he steered Jack's hand's underneath the light station and pressed them to a metal handle, pulling it down. 'It's a switch,' he whispered into the older man's ear. 'And you're arms are going to be very uncomfortable but I need you to hold onto it. When you hear me call, push it back up.'

'Where are you going?'

Jack's voice was nearly drowned out by the ship blasting its horn again, a lot louder now Ianto noticed anxiously.

'To the generator, don't worry, I'll be back. Just listen for me, okay?'

'Okay.'

Jack's whispered voice echoed behind him and within seconds he was gone, treading down the stairs to the base level. The generator.

Jack was breathing far too heavily. He needed to calm down so he could hear Ianto's call.

_If he hadn't called already. _

What if he had? What if Jack was breathing too loudly and he missed it? What if Ianto was waiting down there, wondering why he hadn't flicked the switch yet?

_Oh god my arms hurt. _

They were digging into the thin metal plates that made up the table on which the light was built. The space between it and the floor really wasn't big enough for human arms to fit through.

_Hurry up Ianto. _

Oh Ianto, he was being so brave in all of this. So efficient, Jack would have just frozen to the spot.

_Why? _Why would he have just frozen to the spot? He was _Torchwood_ for Christ's sake! He was meant to be a fearless leader in everything he did! Which admittedly, was mainly just dealing with aliens and the abnormal.

Well by those standards, a dark lighthouse in the midst of a storm wasn't really _that_ abnormal. In fact, it was almost totally _normal_. And that scared Jack a bit. All these lives resting in his hands, in a situation so _average_. They weren't looking for Torchwood, they were just looking for a saviour. That was something Jack hadn't experienced since the war, and that was so long ago…

_'Jack!' _

Ianto's voiced was faint, but Jack heard it.

_'Jack now!' _

Grimacing at the pain in his arms, Jack pushed the lever up with all his might. Which, surprisingly, he really needed. The lever obviously hadn't been used in years.

All at once there was an electronic buzz and the lights sprang to life, blending into one strong beam that bounced off the reflectors around it and shot out over the sea.

Onto a ship. A ship that saw it and was _turning around. _

'Jack,' there was Ianto, breathless, skidding into the room. 'Did you-'

'We did it Ianto! They're turning around! _We saved them_!'

'God, Jack,' Ianto threw himself forward, catching Jack in a strong embrace and holding onto him for all he was worth. 'This is what I _live_ for! God,' he was grinning from ear to ear, 'the adrenaline, the thrill! That was amazing! It was _amazing_ Jack!'

He grasped Jack's chin with one hand and pushed his lips to the captain's. Strong, forceful, but chaste. Then he was pulling back.

_Oh god…_

'Amazing!' Ianto was shouting again, following the light's beam and pressing himself against the glass, staring out at the retreating ship.

'Amazing…' Jack repeated. Although as he brought his fingers up to trace over the length of his lips, he realised it wasn't the rescue he was referring to.

Very slowly, he joined Ianto at the clear wall.

'That needed both of us,' Ianto turned his head suddenly, his cobalt eyes catching Jack's eyes and holding them there. 'If I had of been here alone… If that had of happened… this lighthouse needs _both of us_!'

'What do you… What are you saying, Ianto?' Jack was almost too scared to ask.

_Please say it, please say it, please say it. _

'Live here. Jack… live with me.'

_Don't kiss him. Say yes, say yes. Don't kiss him. _

'Christ Ianto,' Jack couldn't stop himself. His hands latched into the sides of Ianto's face and he crushed his lips against that _goddamn_ mouth. His stomach did back flips as Ianto's hands sought out his waist and curled around his hips, lips eagerly kissing back.

'Yes,' Jack breathed, breaking away to run his nose against the length of Ianto's jaw. 'Yes.'

There was something about lighthouses. No, there was something about _this _lighthouse.


End file.
